Monday, January 28, 2008

The Ghost of Big Dick Past

It's too late to go into much detail now. So, I will be brief.

I showed a snippet of one of my blog entries to my ex-wife. The excerpt in question had to do with how she met the guy who took her from me. Well, apparently he's dead. He was an auto mechanic. And, (I wrote, savoring the delicious irony... is it really irony or merely a coincidence ... fuck it, I'm going with irony) he died sitting in his car, as a result of a CO leak from an ineptly installed exhaust system. An exhaust system that the deceased, the "mechanic," had recently installed, himself.

This put her in an unusually chatting mood. She went on to tell me quite a lot of utterly bizarre shit. I'll touch on the salient points now, and flesh them out later.

Lisa, the woman who introduced them, had grown to hate Eddie. She didn't want Debra to get back together with him. So, I probably owe her an apology for the "rotting in her grave" comment.

She had in fact started fucking him again after Lisa died. She told me that she wanted to see if anything had changed. Apparently he was better at 29 than he had been at 19. She went on to tell me how he "blew her back out."

She claimed that he was still in love with her, and that he was upset because she only considered him to be a "boy toy."

She expressed an, at least partial, belief a supernatural occurrence. Apparently, some of her girlfriends and family believe that Lisa (and I quote) "called him to his grave" from beyond her own. Yeah... that or he was just a piss poor mechanic. She also claimed that some improbably things happened (this being shortly after Lisa's funeral) when he came over to her house and fucked her.

She confessed to having what she described as an evil thought when told of his demise. Her first thought was dismay that she would never feel his dick again. I think that it bears saying that I shit you not

She told me all of this stuff as she strolled down some street delivering the mail. I was at work too. I was sitting in my car in the parking lot throughout this rather long midday conversation. The things that she was admitting to made me so incredibly horny, that had I thought that she would have been game to dump the rest of her mail, I would have blown off the afternoon and spent the rest of the day with my face buried in her ass.

In His Place

About Me

I'm a firm believer in domestic matriarchy, gynarchy, female-led relationships or whatever you'd like to call it. I am not, however, into the theatrical accoutrement of BDSM; whips, chains, leather, cross-dressing and what have you. I am simply most comfortable with my woman making the rules and having the final word... and putting her foot in my ass when I forget my place.